


Missing Piece

by drarryangels



Series: Drarry One-Shots [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco's sleep talking, Engaged Drarry, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Loss, M/M, Post War, Post-Hogwarts, Ron Weasley POV, Sleep talking, post major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Ron peered closer at the blankets, trying hopelessly to see through the folded and wrinkled fabrics to see if Draco was breathing. He wouldn’t put it past him to simply stop his heart with sheer force of will. Losing the person you loved more than anything else in the world sometimes gave people that power.-Draco and Harry were engaged, and everything was supposed to be perfect. Ron and Hermione were finally together, and everyone was supposed to be happy. Except there was a raid at the Ministry, and Harry is gone, and the world is all wrong.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Drarry One-Shots [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672888
Comments: 12
Kudos: 96





	Missing Piece

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know how to write summaries. I am sorry.

Ron settled back into the couch, still carefully watching the ruffled mop of blonde hair under the pile of blankets on the chair next to him. Suffocated noises came from under tight knit blankets and rumpled sheets that had been dragged off of Harry and Draco’s bed several days ago. Ron supposed it was only Draco’s bed now. 

He shook his head and tried to ignore the pit that expanded in his stomach when he thought of this flat as only Draco’s instead of _Draco and Harry’_ s.

Ron shook his head again violently and closed his eyes tightly. The suffocating noises continued several feet away from him, but Ron didn’t dare reach out. He had tried yesterday to pull the blankets off of Draco’s face and make sure he wasn’t slowly dying of oxygen deprivation. All that had earned him was several claw marks down the side of his face from Draco’s nails. 

He opened his eyes again, trying to clear the desperate foggy haze that kept settling over his vision. The room was the same as it had always been. Almost. A dying fire was lit in the hearth, casting shadows of light over the well worn furniture, the cable knit of the blankets stacked on top of Draco’s shivering form. Slightly crooked framed photos on the wall grinned out into the room, beaming happiness from past memories over the grief that had collected in the corners. Ron could hear Hermione quietly shuffling from the kitchen, the tinkling of hot water warming up in the tea pot Harry had once dropped on Ron’s head by accident. Several plants hung suspended in the air by Draco’s magic near the windowsill. Only green eyes and a blinding smile were missing. 

A slight, hoarse voice leaked into the room, and Ron’s head snapped up, back towards the lump of Draco next to him. Ron could only barely make out the words, but it was enough. Enough to tell him that Draco was alive, and hopefully no longer catatonic. 

He stood and cautiously leaned over Draco. There was no movement from underneath the blankets. Ron peered closer at the blankets, trying hopelessly to see through the folded and wrinkled fabrics to see if Draco was breathing. He wouldn’t put it past him to simply stop his heart with sheer force of will. Losing the person you loved more than anything else in the world sometimes gave people that power. 

It wasn’t too long ago that Ron had wished Draco would. Not stop his heart, per se. But leave. Draco’s profuse apologies and holding Harry’s hand had done nothing to convince Ron that he had changed since they were kids. In fact, Ron had hated him and the fact that he was shacking up with Harry so much that he’d begun to avoid seeing Harry altogether in the efforts of evading the inevitable attempts to convince Ron to move past his grudge against Draco. But after two years of dating and an inordinate amount of proof that Draco was both in love and had changed, Ron had had to let go of whatever qualms he had with Draco. 

Besides, Harry was in love with him. That was a good enough reason. 

Another broken noise emerged from the blankets and Ron carefully crept his fingers under the edge of the blankets. He bent his knees, readying himself to jump out of the way if Draco attacked again. Ron slowly ripped back the blankets and was met with a sleeping Draco. 

Ron’s posture relaxed as his eyes settled over the young man curled up in front of him. Draco’s face was softer like this, puffy and blotched from the crying and panic attacks, but rounder and less distraught while he slept. Ron breathed a sigh of relief when Draco mumbled again, moving slightly from the fetal position he had taken up since Harry… since the past couple of days. Ron crouched down on his knees and leaned closer to Draco, curious to make out the words he was repeating in his sleep. 

At first, he heard nothing. But then Draco exhaled, causing fine blond waves to flutter over his face, and Ron finally understood. 

“Love you,” Draco croaked out again. “Harry. My treasure.”

Ron knelt back on his knees and rubbed his palms over his face. This was all so, so wrong. 

Draco and Harry were supposed to be getting married in a week. The four of them should’ve been at a last minute cake tasting at this moment, making a mess of frosting and groaning when Harry kissed a smear of frosting off the corner of Draco’s mouth. Ron and Hermione should’ve been home at their own flat, just getting back home from a night out with friends. Harry and Draco should’ve been holed up together in the flat Ron was currently sitting in, the fire bright and candles lighting up the board games they always insisted they played on Wednesday nights. 

There wasn’t supposed to have been a raid on the Ministry four days ago. Hermione shouldn’t have had to choose between saving herself and Harry. Draco shouldn’t have come flying into Mungo’s hours later, searching for someone who had disappeared in a collapsing fire spawned by hatred. Harry should’ve been curled up with Draco at the Burrow, running his fingers through a sleeping Draco’s hair while Ginny and George attempted to poke Draco without getting swatted away. But he wasn’t.

Everything was all so wrong now. 

Draco was lost, frozen in his couch cushion universe. Hermione was shattered, broken somewhere in her own mind. Ron was left, looking after all the people that could not be helped. And Harry, their missing piece, gone forever. 


End file.
